Dummies
by JantoJones
Summary: A Store mannequin arouses Napoleon's suspicions.


Napoleon Solo was enjoying the short walk back to the office, in the mild spring weather. He had just a pleasant lunch with his partner, who wasn't enjoying the walk so much. Although Illya had appreciated the delicious meal, courtesy of Napoleon, he was still recovering from a bullet wound to the hip. His doctor had told him that, while he was a long way from being field ready, gentle strolling would aid the healing process. The journey to the restaurant had been fine, but now his hip was aching, causing his limp to become more pronounced.

Just around the corner form HQ, the pair passed a clothing store, on the other side of the street, which had closed down a few days previously, following the death of the owner. A mannequin in the second floor window attracted Napoleon attention.

"I'm sure that wasn't there earlier," he commented, pointing up to it.

Illya glanced up and shrugged.

"Perhaps the store is going to re-open."

He was tiring, and was quite looking forward to reaching his office; even with the prospect of the paperwork pile on his desk. As they were looking up, the mannequin's head moved and seemed to be looking right back at them.

"Tell me you saw that too, Illya."

"I did, my friend," the Russian replied. "I am sure that it is simply a loose head and the fact it seems to be looking this way is merely a coincidence."

"I don't believe in coincidences."

Illya sighed. "Do you want check it out?"

Napoleon thought it over. It could just be a case of paranoia, which wasn't unusual in their line of work. Then again, the store had closed very suddenly, and from that window, it would be possible to see who was coming and going from the Del Floria entrance.

"It wouldn't hurt."

They continued on to HQ but, instead of going to their office, they went straight to Mr Waverly to apprise him of Napoleon's suspicions. The Old Man agreed with Kuryakin that it was probably a coincidence, but he had gotten to his position in life by ignoring the gut of an agent; especially when that gut belonged to Napoleon Solo. He authorised a recce.

In an effort thwart any observation, Napoleon and Illya left HQ via a different exit, and made their way to the rear of the store. As they approached the rear entrance they saw the doors were open but they could see no sign of any people. However, the sound of loud music emanated from within. Stepping into the warehouse area, Napoleon called out to anyone who was around, but it was doubtful he could be heard over the music. When no answer came from his second shout, he indicated the stairs to the next floor and beckoned for Illya to follow.

Keeping their hands close to their guns, the two men slowly made their way up the stairs. Reaching the top, Napoleon called out once again, and again received no response. Glancing around, it certainly looked as though someone was preparing a store display, though that didn't mean there wasn't something nefarious going on. Without speaking a word, the two agents split up, and went in opposite directions.

Napoleon went right, towards a large stack of boxes and mannequins. They all looked brand new. Illya went left, circling towards the window, and the mannequin which had set them on this path. Upon reaching the window, Illya could see the entrance to Del Floria's without obstruction. More worrying to him, however, was the mass of wires and electronics which he could see inside an open hatch, which in that back of the mannequin. He would need to investigate further, but there was every chance the plastic figure was being used as a surveillance camera. Catching Napoleon's eye, he waved him over.

"Interesting," the American commented, as he examined Illya's discovery.

Both men froze when the music was suddenly silenced, followed by the click of a pistol being cocked. Turning slowly, they found themselves facing an angry looking woman.

"Can I help you?" she asked sweetly.

"We noticed movement in the window and we worried this building had been broken in to. Since Mrs Bragg passed on we haven't seen anyone around," Napoleon replied smoothly. "I called out when we came in, but you must not have heard."

He flashed her his most dazzling smile, which caused to lower the weapon a little.

"She was my mom," the woman replied. "She left me the store in, along with a decent amount of cash. I was going to sell the place, but decided to re-open and aim for a modern market."

"You have my sympathies on the loss of you mother," Napoleon said, as he started walking towards her. "I didn't know her well, but I found her to be a nice lady."

"Why does this mannequin have electrics inside it?" asked Illya.

"It wasn't cheap, but I thought it would grab people's attention," Miss Bragg replied excitedly, putting the gun down and crossing over to the mannequin.

Flipping a switch, the figure moved its arms and head through a cycle of pre-programmed actions.

"I loved my mom, but she was a little dated in what she sold. I'm hoping that this will let people know we've updated."

"Well it certainly got my attention," Napoleon schmoozed. "Allow me to apologise for scaring you, Miss Bragg. May I make it up to you by taking you out to dinner tonight?"

"I don't see why not," she replied, "And please, call me Geri."

Napoleon introduced himself and Illya and, after getting Miss Braggs details, the agents headed back to the office.

"You realise that we still have not ascertained whether she poses a threat or not," the Russian stated, as they passed through Del Floria's.

"Of course," Solo replied, with a smug air. "But, I have all afternoon to check her background."

Illya shook his head in exasperation. He would usually line up a snide remark, but the unnecessary side-trip had left his hip feeling as though he'd been shot again. Illya had often claimed that women would have been the death of Solo, but there were times it felt as though the demise would be his.


End file.
